The Gun's Lust
by Captain Vox
Summary: In the middle of a growing relationship between Tony and Timothy, Tony is called on killing a drug-lords cousin. Timothy takes a hit for him, can Tony save him in time and without getting himself killed? TonyXTimmy M for later lemons
1. Chapter 1

Timothy McGee blinked hard against the light shinning in his face. He shifted in the hard wooden seat and gasped at the pain that ran through his body. He couldn't move his hands; the rope was cutting into his wrists when he just sat there, the pain of him moving them made his head reel in a dangerous spin, one that threatened to make him black out again.

Concentrating on his breathing, Timothy looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. His memory was hazy but flashes of his recent torture and questioning flashed violently through his head, too rapidly to make much sense of. Taking a deep breath he shifted again, cringing against the pain that ran through him, and tried to get at least a glance behind him.

A shadowy figure moved and strong hands gripped his shoulders, fingers biting into wounds on his bare skin. Timothy yelped out and his head jerked backwards as he tried to slide out from under the grip on him. He shut his eyes hard against the pain but was also thankful for it. He was feeling, he wasn't numb and wasn't blacking out. That could mean that he was going to make it through this yet. "Tony…" he muttered under his breath.

"What?" a dark voice snapped from behind him, echoing across the nearly empty warehouse in an echo. "What did you say? Are you finally giving in, Timothy?" There was a smile in the voice, the dark smile of a viper.

The NCIS agent still wasn't sure who this was, what he was doing here, or what the man grabbing him was looking for from him. "Fuck you," he growled pulling his head forward and as far from his captor as was possible.

A tight grip on his short brown hair jerked him back and he felt his head hit hardened abs. That wasn't what was bothering him, though. The bitter taste of a recently used gun barrel, the pain of hard metal slamming into his mouth and jamming against the back of his throat and the sound of a cocking gun, that made him worry.

He closed his eyes, one image passing through his mind as he decided this was where he was going to die. Tony made it out alive. He is not here with you, his cover was not blown. You can let go…

"Timmy!" Tony Dinozzo's voice yelled out from the doorway of the warehouse.

Timothy could feel the gun being yanked from his mouth and his eyes snapped open as he saw Tony standing there, badge in one hand, gun in the other pointed towards him and his captor. The sound of a gun going off rang out sharply in Timothy's ears and a tear slid down his cheek, unnoticed…


	2. Chapter 2

TWO DAYS AGO

"McGeek," Tony's voice snapped out in a flat tone from across the office space. Timothy knew that tone and hated responding to it because it never really ended well. Instead he grimaced and looked up to see what Dinozzo was up to now. Tony strode across the room and perched himself on Timothy's desk, arms folded over his chest. "We need to talk."

Timothy's eyebrow went up high and he watched Tony with a slightly gaping mouth. "About…what?" he asked hoping it wasn't about what he thought it was about. Images of the night on the stakeout they'd been on together four weeks ago flashed quickly through his mind. His throat constricted tightly with the images and he stopped breathing as he waited for an answer.

Tony glanced around over his shoulder and leaned closer so that only he and Timothy were privy to the conversation. "A lot, McClueless, although if you can't figure it out, it may be a short conversation." He sat back up and watched Timothy glower at him in that boyish pout of his. "Mr. MIT brain can't figure it out?" he asked with that cocky laugh which left a grin plastered to his face.

"I've figured it out, Tony. Just not sure I wanted it to be that particular conversation,." He spoke too fast, not quite stumbling over his words but the murmur of syllables meshed with syllables made it obvious that this wasn't when, or where for that matter, that Timothy wanted to discuss this.

He pulled his eyes from Tony and looked back at the computer before him, opening up his e-mail and briefly scanning his inbox. It was mostly to keep himself from looking back at Tony and catching that strong gaze of his. He hated how it made him stop thinking, turned his brain to mush and tapped into another side of him, something less intelligent and more…well guyish, he supposed.

Tony reached out and head-slapped McGee, as per usual. Timothy looked up at the man perched on his desk and reached behind his head, rubbing where he'd just been smacked. "Ouch," he enunciated and frowned, his brow furrowing with creases. "What was that for, Tony?" he asked bemused.

"You told Abby about that night, didn't you?" he accused sharply and quickly, his chin jutted out as he looked around the office. It was that cocky, almost snide look, that McGee had always wanted to slap off of his face, just once.

Instead of reaching out and doing just that, Timothy sat back in his chair with a puzzled look on his face. "No, I didn't." His statement was simple and the truth. Abby and him had their connection but he wasn't about to tell the girl who seemed to fawn over him that he and Tony had…well their mouths had gotten rather acquainted with each other for a good long time. Sure it hadn't really gone that far but it was something McGee hadn't expected to be doing while they pulled a stake out in a cheap motel. He certainly didn't expect it- not with a womanizer like Tony.

And, if you could believe it, Tony had been the one to initiate said "bonding moment" between the two agents. Pushing the thoughts away as warmness crept up into McGee's cheeks he stared at Tony. "Why?" he asked in that low murmur he used when he wasn't sure he wanted to ask the question.

"I think she knows," he said in a voice that sounded like it came out of the intro of a creepy movie. A movie he could actually picture Abby sitting down to watch. "She's being all…Abby. She's asking about the two of us, if we've hung out on our time off."

Tony pegged his eyes back on McGee and frowned. "You sure you weren't gabbing it up with her down there? Offering her a nice Caf-Pow to listen to your McIssues?" He seemed pretty intent and Timothy had to sit back out of discomfort from the stare that was pegged on him. They stayed like for a moment, a wide eyed Timmy and glaring Tony, until the resounding sound of a head-slap had Tony reeling.

Gibbs moved past them, arm falling back to his side as he jerked to a stop at his desk. Lifting the remote he flicked on the T.V. to the local news station and glowered at what was playing across the screen. The word "NCIS" left the news casters mouth and the guys froze, listening as intently as their boss was.

"…Drug Lord, Benecio Salazar's letter, which was handed to nearly every news station, states rather directly his declaration of war on an NCIS agent whose name has been withheld until authorities can check on the authenticity. The reason behind such a declaration is due to the supposed killing of Salazar's business partner and cousin, Ramiro Salazar two months ago in a large drug bust involving a Navy Commander's ship. The kill shot was attributed to the supposed NCIS agent that Salazar is waging his war agai—".

Gibbs had muted the television and looked back at Tony with a raised eyebrow. Timothy's gaping mouth turned to look at Tony as well. "That's weird," Tony mused out loud. "I shot a Ramiro Salazar two months ago…" His eyes shot over to Gibbs and he looked dumbfounded. "You know that movie-" He rambled a moment about some flick with a revenge killing aimed at a cop but Timothy wasn't fully listening. He was looking at Gibbs now, waiting for orders.

"Tony, shut up,." Gibbs turned away from him and looked up the stairs when he heard Director Vance's door open. Heading across the small space he climbed up the stairs two at a time and the two men disappeared back behind the door.

"So," Tony started turning back on McGee. "How much do you want to bet that I won't be allowed back at my place, Probie?" The grin plastered to his face seemed out of place to McGee. If it were him in Tony's shoes he'd be panicking a little about some vindictive killer gunning for him.

Timothy just looked at him and the smile eventually made sense. "Guess you can come to my place. Then we can have that talk you were so eager about a few minutes ago." He didn't look overly enthused, mostly because he wasn't that excited to bring up that night again for fear of complete rejection.

They hadn't really discussed anything about it after waking up in an awkward, half dressed embrace the day after. It had been brushed off and swept under the carpet.

Tony plopped down in his seat and nodded. "Yeah, good plan, McGee. A nice weekend at the Geekdom, slaying dragons and pretending that's cool." Everything has to happen on a Friday, doesn't it? Well, what a happy coincidence, their little stakeout had been on a Friday. Tony laughed to himself and leaned forward, opening up his e-mail. Not really paying attention to McGee's glare from across the way or what he was clicking on, Tony watched his screen freak out and a gazillion windows started jumping up everywhere. "Uh…McGeek, what is my computer doing?"

"Giving you the virtual finger?" Ziva's voice popped up out of nowhere, dragging both Tony and Timothy's eyes to her.

"Thought you were in the mountains on vacation, Ziva," Tony said pushing back from his desk and looking from her to McGee, waiting for him to diagnose the 'virtual finger' he was getting.

Ziva paused, setting her backpack on her desk. "I just got back. Are you not happy to see me, Tony?" she asked with that serious expression that usually had Tony's face waded up in a contemplating look.

"Yes Ziva, I'm glad you're back. We needed some estrogen back in this place,." Tony stared at McGee who had yet to move. "Probie! Shouldn't you be over here checking out my computer in case raging drug lords are hacking my personal information?" he asked missing the smile-turned-confusion look on Ziva's face.

"Why would a drug lord be after you, Tony? You don't seem all that important…" She made sure Tony was looking this time before she gave a twisted grin. She got her shots in when she could.

Tony looked at her and stood up when Timothy jumped to his feet. The point had been made and the computer genius plopped down, taking on that intense look he got when doing something 'important' on a computer. "Because, I killed his cousin,.. That Salazar guy I shot in the raid two months back, his cousin has now waged war on me. Reminds me of that movie with-"

"Dinozzo, David, McGee, let's go," Gibbs said bounding down the stairs and heading for his desk. He snatched the badge and gun from it and paused looking at the unmoving team members. "Now?" he said pushing his head forward in emphasis.

"Boss, someone put a…" he stopped and quickly thought how to get to the point and very simply. "A virus is pulling personal information from Tony's computer. I can track it and I'm guessing it leads back to Salazar. It's not a normal hacker's code-"

Gibbs interrupted quickly. "Just do it McGee, you two come with me. There was more with that letter than the news station was letting on to." He strode to the elevator and hit the button as he spoke, wasting as little time as possible.

"Yes boss," was the chorus from the three still around the desks. Ziva and Tony kicked it into high gear and grabbed their things, following after and making it just in time to catch the elevator.


	3. Chapter 3

(Just realized I had some major flaws in this with the Abby section so went back and fixed it for those of you who've already read this. I think maybe if I get this fixed up I may want to write to it and not put it on hold like I originally said…)

Tony sat in the back of the SUV, having been manhandled quickly out of the way by Ziva for the front seat. He was perturbed until he remembered he had a pen in his pocket. So, for the fun of it, while Gibbs drove them to wherever they were going, Tony slowly reached around with the pen in his hand watching it head, inky point first, right for the side of Ziva's face.

She snatched his wrist in her hand quickly, twisting it to the point of being painful. Tony yelled and lurched in his seat, trying to get into a more comfortable position as the pen fell from his hand. "Tony, do not make me break off your arm." Ziva gave him a hard stare with pursed lips.

"Knock it off you two, and Dinozzo you'd better keep your head on right…" Gibbs' hard eyes looked at him in the rearview mirror, telling more than he was saying. Just past that stony gaze was concern for his senior agent's life with this new case.

"Right boss," Tony said pulling his arm back from the loosening grip of the Mossad agent. "So there Ziva. You should be nicer to me since I'm a dead man walking." He sat back into the warm leather seat, rubbing at his wrist.

Ziva turned in her seat, gripping the edge of it and glowering. Her lips twisted up into a smile. "It is not the first time you have been walking dead, Tony." Her hair was spilling around her face, kept down today.

Tony couldn't help but smile as he noticed the locks of warm brown hair out of a pony tail. "You look nice today, David. Did I mention that? Almost like the kind of woman I would take home with me. Maybe I could come stay at your place instead of Geekdom." The grin he gave her was the same old womanizing-one Tony gave every attractive woman that passed his way.

Ziva let out a bark of laughter and turned around in her seat. "I will not be another name in your dirty little book, Dinozzo."

"Are you done?" Gibbs snapped pulling up to the curb outside of the local news station. He threw the car into park and shut off the ignition, yanking the keys from it and looking between the two. "We have a job to do. It could save your life, Tony." He pushed open the car door without waiting for a response and slammed it shut. He did the Gibbs-stride towards the door passed the small crowd of uniformed officers and fearful looking news casters, looking like he owned every place he set foot. People moved for him easily scared off by the furrowed brows and intense fire in his eyes.

The two agents got out and jogged after him, flashing their badges to get past the crowd of people. Gibbs was standing talking to a woman with puffy red eyes, gripping tightly to a box that was dripping a suspicious looking red substance from a bottom corner. Tony cringed and slowed his progression, looking to Gibbs for confirmation of what nasty thing could be in the box.

"…a hard thing, yes. It's okay, you can hand me the box, Mrs. Renolds." Gibbs held out his hand, voice and look on his face soft and comforting as he spoke to the obviously spooked woman She handed it over with shaking hands and Gibbs took it steadily. He pulled it around so that he was profile to the woman and the two approaching agents. Flipping open the top so that the woman didn't have to see it again, Gibbs looked down and had a hard mask placed on his face almost immediately.

Ziva gave a low whistle. Tony stared and then frowned, starting to reach inside. "That's my house key…" he said just as Ziva slapped his hand away from the box.

"Gloves Tony." She looked in the box. "The first thing that you notice is your house key, _not_ the bloody heart?"

Tony shrugged and looked back in the box. "Hey boss, what's written underneath that?" he asked pointing to the watery ink that lay beneath the detached organ.

"Don't know Tony. Get the heart to Ducky and the box to Abby and maybe we'll find out." He shoved the box towards Tony then stopped. "Gloves Dinozzo. Didn't Ziva already say that?" he asked turning his wrist to hand it to Ziva. "You go with her and stay with Abby until I get some answers, Dinozzo. Don't want your heart in a box next."

"Uh…yes boss. Can I get something to eat first? Abby's back on her health food binge and I couldn't stomach another spinach leaf and alfalfa sand-"

"Tony." Gibbs looked at him with a slightly gaping mouth.

"Right, never mind." Tony turned to follow Ziva back to the car and paused, looking over his shoulder. "What about your ride Gibbs?" he asked.

The ex-marine just smiled and shook his head. "Go, now." He turned back around and placed a gentle on the woman's shoulder, talking in a low and easy voice to her. Despite all his hardness and tough-guy intimidation, the man was sucker for a woman- beautiful or in despair it didn't matter. Tony shook his own head and climbed in, looking over at Ziva.

She was putting the key in the ignition and Tony grabbed his seatbelt quickly. "Oh, this was their plan. Death by Ziva's 'driving', as she likes to call it." He chuckled to himself watching her shoot him a glare.

"You Tony, Abby asked me something interesting last night." She had her own smile on as she pulled out and headed back for the office.

Tony eyed the road, hoping his suspicions were wrong. He was going to kill his Probie if they weren't wrong. "Mmm," he was tight lipped and glaring hard. "What was that, Ziiivuh?" he asked trying not to grit his teeth.

The Mossad agent shrugged her shoulders and put her foot down further on the gas pedal. At least they weren't in her mini-cooper. That was a death trap on wheels with this woman driving. Though, this truck was a bigger target for whatever she thought she could zoom around or past. "Oh, just wanted to know if I'd seen you and McGee hanging out after work hours."

"What could Mc-Elf Lord and I possibly have in common enough to hang out after hours?" he asked reaching for the radio station and turning on some hard rock. It was enough to drown out what Ziva was trying to say to him. He was surprised she didn't try to turn it off and continue the conversation. Instead he was able to pull out his air guitar and jam with his feet on the dashboard on the short ride "home".

A couple hours after Abby received the box from Tony and Ziva, the machine beeped down in Abby's lab. She turned around right after the computer beeped with a smile on her face. "What have you got Abbs," she said in the "Gibbs" voice. "Well…Uh, Gibbs?" She looked around, spinning slowly and came up Gibbs free. Quickly she ran to her phone and picked it up. "Aaaaahh-nd, ring!" It remained silent. The pout on her face was truly pathetic.

"Abby!" came a voice from the elevator into her lab.

"Gibbs! Er…Tony and McGee." Abby's pout turned to almost utter horror.

Tony stopped and looked at her, giving her a frown. "We're not _that_ bad are we?"

"Where is Gibbs? Is he okay? He's not here because the killer got him, didn't he?" Abby was near hysteric but the two men were used to that.

Timothy rolled his eyes and moved around to look at the computer screen bearing the results her blood test. A match already. That meant it was somebody already in the system. He looked at the name and bit his lip.

"Yes, Abby. Gibbs is dead and I am boss now." That landed Tony a punch in the arm.

Timothy turned around and looked at Abby. "Gibbs is in the field talking to people at the news station. He told us to call when we got something." He offered her a smile and handed his phone across the space to her.

"Thank you, Timmy." She smiled and snatched the phone, calling Gibbs.

Timothy moved to stand next to Tony. "You didn't terrorize her earlier did you?" he asked under his breath. "I told you I didn't talk to her. I don't know why Ziva is getting in on this as well."

Tony gave him a flat stare. "Because McClueless, they're girls. That's what they _do_."

Timothy looked over at Tony and shook his head. "You're not worried about this at all, Tony?" he asked but didn't get an answer. Abby was back over, handing the phone to him and speaking up.

"The blood was the FBI agent's from Washington, the one that helped on the case, Tony. And I deciphered the message." She was biting her lip and clasping her hands in front of her, slightly twirling back and forth in her large combat boots.

"Oh, we're done freaking out now that Gibbs is okay?" he asked folding his arms over his chest. He didn't look all that concerned for a man that was being hunted by one of the most powerful drug lords in South America.

"It was your address written on the box, Tony. They know where you live, Tony you can't go home!" Abby was pre-hysterics again and the guys were not ready for another break down so quickly.

Tony quickly put an arm over her shoulders, pulling her up against his side. "Abby, my Princess of all of things Goth and Vampire, I'm going to be stuck in Geekdom, you don't have to worry about me. The most that could happen is I go into boredom overdrive and my brain gets fried. That or McGee tries to shove some Star Wars crap into the DVD player and my head explodes."

Abby's hysterics took a quick turn. "You're staying at McGee's house. All night? You two, alone?" she asked with a grin that had Tony letting her go and backing up.

"Abby, stop that thought right now." Tony shook his head and headed for the elevator. "I don't even want to know what is going through your twisted black mind."

"There is nothing going on between Tony and I." Timothy moved back over to look at the name on the screen. It was the FBI agent. That agent and Tony had practically taken out the group of drug dealers single handedly. By the time their backup had gotten there they had just run out of handcuffs for those still alive. Timothy shook his head. This wasn't good and Tony wasn't scared enough for his own good.

Abby just looked between them and shook her head. "Okay, and I was cheerleader in high school."

"You weren't a…oh," Tony looked at her and turned back, pressing the elevator button a few more times, as if it'd actually get the machine down there faster. Timothy moved after him and nudged him.

"That's not going to help, Tony just stop." Timothy looked at him and worked his mouth wordlessly for a second. "Um, so what are you going to do, Tony? I mean, this is pretty serious."

Tony looked at McGee and smiled. "Let you worry and enjoy some time house hopping. Maybe Abby would let me crawl in her coffin with her."

Abby laughed. "Not even close to being big enough!"

"Me, or the coffin?" Tony asked furrowing his brows. If he could keep this conversation up maybe he could stop blushing. So far the other two hadn't noticed.

"The coffin, Dinozzo." Abby turned back around and started marking times and names on the baggies that she was putting the evidence into.

Tony gave out a breathy laugh and nodded. "Ah, okay I was just making sure because I've heard from some people that I'm a bit too big-" _Thwak_. Tony's head moved forward from the head slap and he looked around, expecting Gibbs. He saw nothing but a big grin on Timothy's face.

"Probie, that's dangerous grounds, you know that don't you?" Tony growled and glared at him.

"You know Tony, I'm not that concerned about it." Timothy smiled and climbed on the elevator as it finally dinged and the doors opened to allow them on.

(Thanks for the reviews and favorites, they may have gotten me to continue…we will see.)


	4. Chapter 4

(So finally got this posted. Guess I'm not putting it off. Thanks to those who reviewed, favorited and are following. I've figured out my ending, I think! Hope you enjoy.)

Timothy was unlocking his door, a man behind him bouncing with pent up energy. This was going to prove a taxing night. Jerking the key out and shoving the door open Timothy stepped aside and let Anthony inside first. "Don't destroy anything…please," he said to Tony's back as the man disappeared inside Timmy's one safe haven. He could feel himself cringing at thoughts of Tony poking around everywhere.

Dinozzo bopped inside and tossed his back on the couch. "Same as I remember from last time, Probie. You should really look into getting an interior decorator." He glanced back at Timmy and pegged him with a grin.

Timothy didn't look as amused with the whole situation as Tony did. He draped his own bag and coat on the chair by his type-writer. "Yeah, I'll get right on that Tony." Timothy rolled his eyes and looked at the paper that was lined up in the machine. It had a few paragraphs typed up already- an intense fight scene actually. He pulled the paper out of it and stuffed it into his desk. He didn't need Dinozzo picking apart that bit of his life. "There's pizza in the fridge," he said mostly to try and turn the man's attention away from Timmy and more towards Tony.

"Mmm," Dinozzo smiled and headed into the kitchen. He was talking about some gangster movie or other. Timmy wasn't really listening too hard. Timothy watched him grab a couple of pieces, minus plate or even napkin, and move back over to his couch. Tony plopped down and stopped talking only long enough to take a big bite of pizza. "Wait…" he looked at the thing in his hand. "How do we know this wasn't poisoned?"

Timothy looked at him, stared, eyebrows raised as Timothy watched him like he was a three year. "Because Tony, I'm not the one they're looking to kill."

"They could have figured out I'd be here." He paused and scrunched his face in thought. The hand holding the slice of pizza was still hanging limp in the air in front of his face. It wasn't an overly attractive pose. "Everyone else seems to know about us…"

Narrowing his eyes, Timothy shook his head. "What is _us_ anyone, Dinozzo? We kissed, that's all." Timothy wasn't sure where this new found courage was coming from but there it was. "If this was your lead in to this conversation, it wasn't a very good one. But since we're on the topic, let's talk." Timothy folded his arms over his chest and stood a ways off from the couch, watching but not getting too close. He would definitely lose that ounce of confidence he'd dredged up if he got any nearer and was actually within reaching distance.

Tony stared up at him for long moments, mouth working wordlessly. He wasn't sure how to respond to Timothy's upfront-ness. It only came out every now and again, and each of those times it had caught Tony at least a little off guard. "Well, I mean," Tony looked down, tossing his pizza on Timothy's coffee table. He may have done it because he knew that it would bother Timothy to no end. "We've been partners for a while, haven't we?" He turned his eyes back up towards his Probie.

"Mhm," Timothy mused slowly moving to the chair on the other side of the coffee table. He eyed the discarded pizza with disdain but didn't say anything about it. He wouldn't give Tony that pleasure. "Yeah, we have. We've been through a lot Tony, and this is what is bothering me the most."

Tony watched him quietly and took in a deep breath, wanting to find his words before just spewing something he wouldn't mean or would regret. "Timothy, look, I was telling you the truth at the stakeout when I said I liked you. That's why I stopped that little make-out fest we had going before it went any further." Tony shifted forward on the couch, trying to get closer without pushing Timothy out away from him.

McGee sat back a little and nodded, looking down at the table again, ignoring the pizza sitting atop it. "This means what exactly?" he asked, wringing his hands together.

"That's mostly up to you, Probie. I won't ask a relationship out of you if it's not something you're interested in. I mean, if you're just interested in some sex with me, that's totally fine too," he chuckled trying to slip a Dinozzo-ism in there with the tension.

Timothy glared at him and reached for the pizza, chucking it at him. "That's not even funny, Tony." He moved closer to the edge of his chair as well. "If I get any of you, I want a real relationship."

Tony smiled and nodded, picking up the pizza from his lap and tossing it back on the table. He deserved that. His heart hammering as he watched Timothy. His Probie was really learning how to take control of a situation. "Alright, then let's start breaking some of Gibbs' rules, hmm?" Tony said with a grin and stood up, walking around the table to stand in front of Timothy.

McGee grabbed a hold of Tony's belt buckle and dragged him down to his knees. Once he had him at the right height, Timothy leaned in and laid his lips on Tony's. This kiss was a lot more heated than their last one. Anger really could make sensuality fiercer, better. Tony's arms were planted on the seat around Timothy's thighs, mostly keeping balance as he was tugged in by Timothy. McGee's arms were snaking around Tony, clinging to his shirt at the back and attempting to pull him into the chair with Timothy.

When the kiss broke, Tony laughed. "I don't think it's big enough for us both, there Probie. How about the couch or something?"

"Or something is good," Timothy said and pushed Tony down on the ground. That confidence had only grown since Tony had fed it with positive reactions. Climbing up on top of Tony, Timothy found his lips again while his fingers worked at the buttons on Tony's button-up. His hands splayed across Tony's bare chest, skin warm and well toned. He should feel self-conscious. His body wasn't as built or taut as Tony's. But he didn't. Like Tony had said, the two had been through a lot together. Judgment was long past.

Tony gripped at Timothy's shoulders as he was being pushed around, controlled and stripped. His hands were nothing like a woman's. These were more commanding, less afraid with being gentle and proper and more in tune with the primal side. It was two alphas fighting for top here. Funny, until now he'd never thought of Timothy as an alpha, but who in that office could match up to Timothy's smarts? At least, his book smarts? Moving his hands down, Tony worked off Probie's shirt too.

The pants are in the way, Timothy thought as he looked down at Tony. He made quick work of getting those off and discarding them with the shirts. Once they were both naked, Timothy leaned back down, pressing their bodies and lips together. Tony's body heat felt amazing, his hard body pressed easily to Timothy's pliable one, and his mouth was as frantic as Timothy's.

Tony groped with a free hand for the pocket of his pants. He didn't break the kiss; he could multitask when it came to something like this. Actually, he had a particular talent for multitasking and that only came with practice. Pulling out a small container of lube and a couple condoms, Tony moved his hand up to press them into Timothy's hand.

Timothy pulled back and looked at the things Tony was holding. He raised an eyebrow. "You actually brought those? You were planning on this?"

"Maybe?" Dinozzo asked with a chuckle. "Come on Probie, I need more than some naked cuddling."

McGee sucked in a deep breath, trying to settle his breathing and nerves. "Yeah, me too." He snatched the condom and peeled it open. Pulling out the rubber he held it between his fingers. "Who is uh…?"

Tony snatched the condom from Timothy and unrolled it, getting it situated on McGee perfectly. Squeezing a bit of the lube into his hand he grabbed Timothy's shaft and rode his hand up and down it, both pleasing and preparing Timothy. He heard his Probie groan and quickened the pace a little, to make sure the lube was fully covering him. He smiled an evilly sexy grin.

Timothy knocked his hand away and shifted his hips down ward. He reached around Tony's hips and lifted him up to meet his own. He pressed the head of his shaft at Tony's entry and slowly surged forward. Tony gasped and grabbed desperately at the carpet as McGee filled him.

The two men rocked their hips together, pushing and pulling at one another in desperate rising heat and passion. Sweat was beading on them as they grasped at each other's hips and shoulders, creating a slick slide and a friction of heat budded. Tony stared up into Timothy's eyes, giving him little glares when he tried to look away or close his eyes. Most of the time, Tony was a talker, but now, this silent connection they had was the most erotic thing he'd ever experience. Every little facial cue, each shift of the hips or toss of the head let one another know exactly what they were feeling. This is what Tony had been missing in all of his other relationships; connection beyond the physical.

Tony grabbed a hold of Timothy's member when he felt himself getting close to the edge of ecstasy. He matched the pace of his hand to the pace of their thrusting hips and dragged his lover to the abyss of pleasure with him. They came in a rush of lost breath, moans and lover-calls. The sound of Tony's name on Timothy's lips had the senior agent's head reeling. Perfection.

* * *

Tony was lying in the bed a while later, curled naked on his side with sheets covering up around his hips. Timothy just stood in the doorway, clutching a cup of coffee, watching his easy sleep consumed breathing. It was odd that there was such danger after Tony. Sure, they hadn't met it yet, but it was there, and hopefully they wouldn't ever meet it.

Turning away Timothy looked at the apartment. It was a disaster but for the first time, Timothy didn't care that much. As he looked around the chaos that the little place had fallen to it all reminded him of everything he and Tony had shared. There were imprints of the two of them all over the place and inspiration was fast springing. He turned and looked at the type-writer, then the garbage can next to it. That needed to go before he did anything else.

Grabbing the bag from the basket he looked down the hall just to make sure Tony was still asleep before quietly slipping from the apartment. He went down the hall to the elevator and wasn't surprised that the place was quiet and darker than normal. It was late and everyone else was more than likely sleeping, as he should be. Tonight had just been a lot to take in, besides the thoughts of Tony in danger. Their connection all over the apartment only made those fears clearer and more ominous.

Slipping out of the side door to where the trashcans were, Timothy chucked the bag in and turned around. He was met by two large men just a few feet away. He automatically reached for his weapon but it was no longer at his hip. It was sitting somewhere in the mess upstairs as he was now in sweats and a t-shirt, not work gear. How stupid of him.

The men advanced and flanked either side of him. The little alleyway beside the apartment left little room to maneuver. He cursed himself again and searched frantically for an out. He could yell, warn Tony but…

"Tony Dinozzo?" one of the men spoke up.

So they didn't even know what he looked like. Either these two were about to get it from their boss or their bosses intelligence into the death of his brother was far more limited than they were led to believe.

"Ah, who?" McGee asked hoping to play this off and be able to get back up to Tony and a weapon.

The other smiled and shook his head. "You don't sound so confident Mr. Dinozzo. You should try to lie a little better."

Well, them believing _he_ was Tony would buy his lover some time. McGee didn't really want to end up dead in their hands though. "You've got the wrong guy."

"Don't worry, we won't bother your little cop friend up there. We're just after you." It was the first man that spoke up.

"I don't know who the hell you think I am, but you've got the wrong guy. I don't know any Dinozzo or his cop friend." McGee was taking steps backwards, still looking for a way to duck out.

Both men laughed. "We were told you would be here, Anthony. If we were in your shoes, we wouldn't be able to sleep either. We saw you," the first one started.

"Your shadow up in the room we were told you'd be in. Moving around, all nervous like," the second one finished with a laugh.

He wasn't getting out of this and he certainly wasn't going to say that Dinozzo was, in fact, the one still upstairs. He would not hand over his partner and new-found lover, not to these guys when Timothy had a chance to get him off the hook. He would still fight, but he was not going to deny who they thought he was.

They moved, not much but enough that Timothy might have an opening. He moved slowly closer, all three bantering with, "You're an idiot", "you're a bad liar", "just make this easy and come with us". In an instant, Timothy dashed for the opening between them. He made it, their wild swings at his back glancing off or ripping the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Darting down the alleyway towards the open street, Timothy was sure he'd be able to get into the open at least and find some way out of this. Hands descended on him, pulling him back to the shadow and dank dirtiness of the alleyway. He'd lost and so quickly. Damn his lack of athletic prowess. But Tony was safe. That was what counted.


	5. Chapter 5

Timothy was smashed in the backseat of a black SUV between two of the men that grabbed him. It would have been text-book cliché had a man with a cigar been in the front seat waiting. Apparently their boss didn't like to get his hands dirty one bit. The men had tied his hands behind his back with rope, and fairly well he had to say as it was cutting into his circulation. His mind was racing as the car started up and sped off. They thought he was Tony, did they know what Tony was like? Should he be making smart remarks involving some crime movie?

"H-hey, you wanna loosen these a bit?" His voice cracked but he forced it out with an almost cocky looking grin. "I mean really, how far can I actually get?" Timothy could feel himself easing with the sarcasm. No wonder Tony felt so at ease…in every situation.

One of the guys he was sitting next to pushed him forward, exposing his tied hands but putting him in an awkward position. Timmy felt the man at the ropes and then they were tightened, biting at his flesh. He gasped and was yanked back upwards. Slinking as far as he could downwards to try and get off his wrists, Timothy decided to drop the Tony routine. Apparently these guys were _really _not happy with him. _Think, Tim think…you're the brains aren't you? Not in this situation! Oh man…this isn't good…Tony will notice I'm not back. He'll call the team…I'll be all right._

The car ride was across town and out into the slums by the docks. He was surprised they hadn't blindfolded him. And then he became concerned. They really did mean to kill Tony. No need for a blindfold if you were just going to kill the man once you got him there. Maybe a little torture for what he'd done to your family…Timothy felt like throwing up.

Timothy was yanked roughly from the large vehicle and had to step quickly, crossing foot over foot and back again to keep from falling onto the pavement. The man who'd tightened his ropes pulled him forward and the other two led the way to one of the large dock buildings. The door opened and hit the back wall with a clang. They were obviously very confident in that they wouldn't be found for all the noise they were making.

* * *

Tony shifted under the sheets and looked around the room wearily. It took a few moments to remember where he was but when he did he looked next to him with a big smile. That quickly faded when he noted that Timmy wasn't there with him. Frowning a little he kicked the sheets off and placed his feet on the floor. He snatched up his boxers from the ground and slipped into them before walking out to check the rest of the apartment. "McGee?" he asked looking around and finding the place empty.

Panic quickly bubbled in his chest and he started snatching the clothing from all around the apartment and searched quickly for his gun. He found it and his NCIS badge on the kitchen table next to Timmy's. He grabbed all of it and headed out of the apartment, gun in hand and safety off. He stalked carefully down the hall and hit the elevator button, aiming his gun into it. His heart was hammering as he thought of something happening to Timmy right after all they'd finally gotten out there. "Son of a bitch…" the elevator opened and it was empty. Tony climbed on and hit the first floor button. His gun was still poised in his hands at his hip. Gibbs was going to kill them if this bastard didn't get them first.

Sucking in a deep breath, Tony pulled the gun up when the elevator opened to the lobby. Empty. "What the hell is going on…" He rushed outside, gun out before him and eyes moving quickly with his ears perked and listening hard. There was no one to be seen anywhere; not down the street, not the alley, nowhere. "Timothy."

Tony grabbed his phone and quickly hit speed dial to Gibbs' house phone. "Please be in your basement!" he muttered into the mouth piece of the phone. He answered on the fourth ring.

"Gibbs," he muttered and Tony sucked in a nervous breath.

"Boss, McGee is missing." He spurted out the words quickly then held his breath waiting for Gibbs' explosion. Tony didn't need Gibbs to make him feel bad at this point; he already felt that this whole thing was his fault. "I was asleep when I woke up he was just- gone."

He could hear Gibbs moving around in the background, grabbing at something, setting a glass down. "If you're outside, get your ass back inside that apartment now. I'll be there in a few minutes." The phone line went dead.

Tony suddenly felt very vulnerable and ducked back inside, eyes still darting around his surroundings making sure that no one would catch him off guard. He decided to take the elevator this time around so that he wowuld only have one direction to defend against. Getting back up and ot the apartment without any problems, Tony shut and locked the door, pacing and thinking with the gun still in his hand. Because of him Timothy was gone. He was probably in the hands of some crazy murderer and it was all Tony's fault. He should have shown his fear, he should have made sure Timothy wasn't in danger, he should have not been Tony for once in his life. "Damn it, damn it!"

Gibbs did show up a few minutes later, after a high probability of having broken over twenty traffic laws. "Get in the car Dinozzo," Gibbs growled from a rolled down window.

Tony ran over and yanked the side door open, climbing in as he was told. "What are we going to do, Boss?" He pulled the door shut and quickly strapped himself in. He wouldn't do Timothy any good if he died in some car accident he was sure his boss was going to either get into or cause one day. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if it happened between Gibbs and Ziva in the work parking lot…how hadn't that happened yet?

Spinning tires and grinding gears, Gibbs took off back to the street. "To get you somewhere we can watch you, then I'm going to get Ziva and Abby to help me find McGee." His voice was like rock scraping across metal, his eyes unwavering and hands gripped the steering wheel in confidence.

Though Tony knew this was a man you shouldn't argue with, it was Tony's fault that Timothy was even in this position. "I'm helping, Boss. You're not just going to shut me in a room and tell me to be a good boy. You know I won't."

"Under lock, key and guard, yeah, you will." Gibbs' voice was raised but not quite yelling. It was unsettling how easily the man could take his voice up a note and make it sound like an order from God. "I've got one agent on the line, I'm not making that two, Tony."

The rest of the ride was silent though Tony was sitting contemplating how to talk Jethro into letting him work this case with the rest of the team. They needed him. Timothy needed him. He couldn't just let all of what had happened go just because his boss wanted him to sit on the sidelines. When did following orders ever stop Dinozzo? This time, he had something worth fighting for and damn it, he was going to fight.

Ziva pushed Tony back into the room and clicked the lock into place before he could fight anymore. She heard him bang on the door, yelling this and that about how he needed to help out. She turned and looked at the man in the uniform. "He does not get out of here until I get back. Are we clear?"

The man nodded his head and flinched a little when the sound of a boot kicking at a metal door sounded behind him. "He sounds pretty upset about this…" the man wavered, easing back from Ziva's glare.

"No one in, no one out. You'd better not mess this up, sergeant." Ziva's eyes could probably cause a heart attack. In this man at least.

Gibbs was standing at the end of the hallway not stopping her warnings to the man, but nodded slightly when the poor cop looked over at him. "Come on, Ziva. We've got to go find our boy."

* * *

The ropes that held Timothy's hands were biting and the blindfold smothered. It was true how taking away one sense could heighten another. "Sit tight pretty boy, our boss will be here any minute," said a deep voice of one of his captors. Timothy had no choice but to sit still and contemplate in this man made darkness. His heart was racing, his hands sweating and legs were shaking.

The sound of faint footsteps, made from dress shoes, sounded outside of the door to the large loading dock. The metal door squeaked open, raking across Timmy's eardrums and forcing him to wince. The footsteps got louder, headed right for him, in a slow rhythmic pattern that made everything slow down to a crawl. Timothy noticed he was holding his breath but couldn't seem to let it go and get himself the needed oxygen. This was it. He was dead. This drug lord was going to kill him.

"Who the fuck is this?" the man was now standing a few inches from Timmy. He felt his face grabbed and jerked roughly upwards, forcing him to look at the man without seeing him. "This is _not_ Tony Dinozzo. You pricks can't get _anything_ right, can you!" his voice was loud and jarring. Anger was more than evident in his screaming.

"B-boss, this was the- he came from the apartment…he must be the…" The man that dared actually speak sputtered to a halt as a realization came to his mind.

"Must. Be. The. What?" The man in the dress shoes growled lowly. Even though the man's anger was not directed at Timothy, the agent could feel the boiling heat rolling from the hand that gripped his face and he was frightened.

"The other cop. The one Tony was staying with." The man finished his sentence and gulped audibly. If the people that worked for the man could get this afraid of the man, Timothy figured he had every reason to be frightened for his life.

The sound of shoes moving away from him let Timothy breath for a moment. The sound of a fist hitting skin and a body meeting the cold cement ground had him jumping in his seat. Grunts and hits followed for a few long minutes then silence. Timmy didn't even hear the shoes this time as he listened hard for what was going on around him. The sudden feel of hands on his shoulders and the warmth of breath on the uncovered section of his face had the man freezing and waiting. "I guess we'll just have to find out from this one where we can find Tony Dinozzo. Let the fun begin." The laugh echoed around the large open space of the loading dock and a chill breeze blew over Timothy.

* * *

So we're getting to the end of this :D After finishing up my other two NCIS fics I'll come up with a new one and actually work it all out before jumping into it. My long NCIS fics don't seem to have good direction. Sorry about that. Thanks for following though!


	6. Chapter 6

Tony was standing with a grim smile on his face on the other side of the door that Ziva had pushed him through. Banging from the guard whom he'd duped sounded and he remembered himself. Timothy was in trouble and he needed to get to him. The problem was finding out what Gibbs, Ziva and Abby had discovered without getting caught. For Timothy's sake, he could do it. He wasn't lead detective on his good looks…well, not only. He grinned to himself and slipped down the hallway away from the interrogation room.

The bullpen was closing in and he eased his pace, waiting and watching. No one was at this end of the office building and he could see Gibbs and Ziva grabbing their guns and badges. They'd found something in the hour and half that Tony had been shut away. He checked his watch. They'd be down to the cars in about three minutes. From here, Tony could use the back door and get there in two if he ran. Turning tail he sped down the back stairwell, hand reaching for his hip and finding his spare gun at the small of his back. Rounding the second stairwell he checked quickly for his badge, finding it tucked safely in the pocket of his dress pants.

He pushed open the backdoor and paused, expecting an alarm to go off. Nothing. He exhaled and ran out, hitting the chill of an early winter air. No jacket, well tough shit. He pushed himself faster and spun around the corner to a complete halt. Gibbs and Ziva were climbing into a work issued black SUV. If he was quick he could get his own and follow at a discrete distance. He just couldn't lose Gibbs or Ziva. Both were dangerous drivers and he'd have his work cut out for him following after.

Timothy's head snapped to the side from a backhanded lash. At this point the feeling pouring through him from the hit wasn't much. It merely sent a jolt through the numb, aching buzz that consumed his body. He'd be in pain for weeks if he made it out alive.

"Now, Agent, you're going to tell me where they would hide dear Anthony Dinozzo." The voice made Tim cringe and grit his teeth.

With the blindfold still on everything was disorienting. The voice never came from the same place twice. It moved, quietly. That was worse than the pain, the never knowing, and the expecting. For long moments his ears were meant with silence. He had to stop breathing to hear anything around him. Wind. It was windy outside and a distant car passed off the road from the docks, more than likely. A sudden stabbing pain ran up his leg and made his head spin dangerously. "Gaah!" he yelled out leaning against the ropes holding him to the chair. Whatever was slammed into his leg was dragged out bringing Timothy a clear sense of pain. His foggy mind was cleared up instantly and the pain was fresh. "I don't know. At NCIS headquarters, in some low rent hotel, fucking France for all I know. I've been stuck here with you, how should I know where Tony is?" Timothy yelled out in the direction he thought the man might be in.

A voice came from behind him, away from where he thought it would. "Well, at least you're talking now. How about a name? Do I get a name yet, Agent? This could be so much more personal; we could really bond with a name you know."

"Yeah, screw you," Timothy was panting, fighting the pounding sting in his thigh where the blade of some sort had been pulled from. He'd been doing so good, keeping his mouth shut, but he was reaching breaking point. _Anytime now, guys. Burst through that door- like always…_ He'd have cried if he wasn't worried about looking strong for whenever Tony burst in to help him.

"That's not very nice, Agent. Let's work on your manners, shall we?" the man asked and chuckled low in his throat.

The gurgle of laughter had Timothy holding his breath and waiting for another kind of pain to run through him. The numbness that had been there before was well missed the next twenty or so minutes. The pain was getting him to talk, little pieces, trying to appease the man enough for breathing room. The sound of a gunshot reverberated around the large warehouse and Timothy McGee slipped into the dark recesses of his mind.

Tony kept up fairly well, but perhaps a bit too closely. If Gibbs did notice he didn't waste any time trying to ditch Tony on some side road. He was intent on his target and Dinozzo was thankful for that. There wasn't time to argue with another, even in the way of car chases. He sped up, making sure that he made it to the spot Timothy was being held, hoping against any and all odds that his Probie was safe. Too much had happened between them to let it all go to hell now. Of course, Tony didn't have too much of a say about matters at this point in time.

They were headed for the docks, he realized as Gibbs' car disappeared down a road Tony was familiar with. This was where the big drug bust had gone down, where the shot out had occurred, where he'd killed…If Timothy wasn't alive, there would be more blood on Tony's hands this day.

Pulling his car next to Gibbs' he tensed ready for the look, maybe a slap, possibly even a shot to the leg. None of that would stop Anthony Dinozzo today. "Boss, I'm not leaving."

Gibbs looked at him as he climbed out of the car, anger chilling his gaze. "Dinozzo, as soon as this is over, you're on desk duty for two months. I'm not exaggerating." He pulled his gun up and motioned quietly for Ziva and Tony to follow, cutting the argument short. He motioned for Ziva to go to one side, Tony the other and he took the path right down the middle. They'd surrounded the building, the three of them, and each with a prayer to something that they'd be able to do this. Impractical, yes, but a plan that all three were just fine with.

Timothy McGee blinked hard against the light shinning in his face. He shifted in the hard wooden seat and gasped at the pain that ran through his body. He couldn't move his hands; the rope was cutting into his wrists when he just sat there, the pain of him moving them made his head reel in a dangerous spin, one that threatened to make him black out again.

Concentrating on his breathing, Timothy looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. His memory was hazy but flashes of his recent torture and questioning flashed violently through his head, too rapidly to make much sense of. Taking a deep breath he shifted again, cringing against the pain that ran through him, and tried to get at least a glance behind him.

A shadowy figure moved and strong hands gripped his shoulders, fingers biting into wounds on his bare skin. Timothy yelped out and his head jerked backwards as he tried to slide out from under the grip on him. He shut his eyes hard against the pain but was also thankful for it. He was feeling, he wasn't numb and wasn't blacking out. That could mean that he was going to make it through this yet. "Tony…" he muttered under his breath.

"What?" a dark voice snapped from behind him, echoing across the nearly empty warehouse in an echo. "What did you say? Are you finally giving in, Timothy?" There was a smile in the voice, the dark smile of a viper.

A tight grip on his short brown hair jerked him back and he felt his head hit hardened abs. That wasn't what was bothering him, though. The bitter taste of a recently used gun barrel, the pain of hard metal slamming into his mouth and jamming against the back of his throat and the sound of a cocking gun, that made him worry.

He closed his eyes, one image passing through his mind as he decided this was where he was going to die. Tony made it out alive. He is not here with you, his cover was not blown. You can let go…

"Timmy!" Tony Dinozzo's voice yelled out from the doorway of the warehouse.

Timothy could feel the gun being yanked from his mouth and his eyes snapped open as he saw Tony standing there, badge in one hand, gun in the other pointed towards him and his captor. The sound of a gun going off rang out sharply in Timothy's ears and a tear slid down his cheek, unnoticed…


	7. Chapter 7

Timothy sat on the edge of the bed at home. He'd gotten out of the hospital just yesterday and was glad of it. A week and half was long enough for him. He was still bandaged, shoulder wrapped tightly where he'd been shot before blacking out, one arm in a cast, sides if his face lightly bruised from where the gun that had shot him had been shoved in his mouth, leg wrapped up with stitches, and body sore from the other random beatings. All in all though, his body was doing much better.

He took in a deep breath and thought of the last moments of his torture- of his captor's gun going off and Tony falling to the ground. Tim clamped his eyes shut and grit his teeth, trying to rid himself of the image. He took in another deep breath despite the pain it sent through him and pushed off of the bed. He needed to find some drugs before he started to leak tears.

In the kitchen he found a bottle of ibuprofen and a water bottle in the fridge. Dumping out four he popped them in his mouth and chugged a bit of the water bottle. The coolness helped to settle his nerves. He still couldn't believe that Tony had charged in there, blindly, stupidly. But then, it had been Timothy's fault that it had happened that way at all. It was Timothy's fault he'd been shot. Timothy had stupidly, blindly gone outside alone and without his gun. This fact would sit heavy on his conscience for a long while.

Turning around, thoughts still pounding at his head, Timothy headed for his living room. His eyes swept around the place, tossed apart messily once more. He didn't really care at this point though. His typewriter was set up with another page in it. He'd only put out about three words before giving up. Besides, he'd gotten protests from the lump on his couch that it was too loud.

Timothy's eyes swiveled over to said "lump on the couch" and he smiled softly. Of course everyone agreed Timothy couldn't be left alone. He'd gone through too much, so having a team member there would be a good idea. Timothy was just questioning Gibbs' thoughts on it being a good idea to have two agents who were both shot under one roof. He shook his head and moved closer to the couch, peeling back the blanket just enough to see tussled brown hair and an open mouth. Tony let out a grunt of displeasure from being disturbed and Timothy let the blanket fall back over him. The man needed rest, too. The bullet had torn a nasty path through his thigh and he was sporting a heavy limp because of it. Timothy couldn't help but feel responsible. If Tony wouldn't walk right again, it was on Tim.

Timothy went to move away from the couch but something caught his uncasted wrist and stopped him. "Wait, where you think you're goin'?" asked Tony in a rocky sleepy voice.

A grin spread over Tim's face. "Back to bed. I'm tired. You should come, too. This couch isn't very comfortable when you're sleeping on it all night."

"Then why'd you let me?" Tony asked shifting to sit up, cringing only slightly at the feel of tenseness in his leg.

"I didn't, you feel asleep during the movie and I couldn't get you back up." Timothy held out his hand, trying to get his Senior Agent to follow him to bed. "What was I supposed to do, carry you?"

Tony chuckled and stood up, putting his weight on his right leg and looking down the hallway towards the bedrooms. "Think you could, Probie? That's a long walk…" He turned his face back to Timothy with a huge grin.

Timothy shook his head. "Yeah, you'd better be joking because at this point you could guilt me into it and then I'd just end up hurting us both even more."

Stopping his joking, Tony reached out and placed his hand on the side of Timothy's face. "Hey, look at me. It's not your fault." He tilted his head down lower, trying to get a good look at Timothy's eyes. Tony's were cast in shadow as he angled his eyes upwards. "You hear me? I came in there to save you from _my_ stupid mistake. None of this is on you."

A twitch of disbelief stirred Timothy's lips into a frown but he nodded slowly. Even though he didn't believe Tony's argument about it not being his fault, Timothy didn't want to stand in the living room much longer. The bed would still be warm from his body heat and the added warmth and comfort of Tony in bed with him sounded wonderful. "Yeah Tony, I got ya." He turned slightly, making to go to the bedroom but stayed within Tony's reach so he could help him limp back there. Gibbs had given them the next few days off to recover before a long time stuck on desk duty so once they got back there, they wouldn't have to move much. He briefly wondered if the pizza guy would deliver right to his bedroom. That would be nice.

Tony noted the disbelieving look in Timothy's eyes but he was on the same page. He needed a nice warm bed and comfy cuddle buddy before he could start arguing again. Each step towards the bedroom shot fire through his leg and up into his hip and side. He'd been hurt before but this bullet wound was a bitch. He could only imagine how his Probie must be feeling after the real worked over torture he'd gotten. Tony briefly wondered when the junior agent would be ready to talk about all of that. He knew from experience it was better to talk than to bottle. "You okay, Tim?" he asked wincing as the moved steadily down the hall.

"Not really, but I want the bed." Timothy kept them going, not wanting to collapse in the hallway. He didn't bother shutting the door to the bedroom, but rather climbed into the bed and pulled the other side of the blankets away enough for Tony to clamber in as well.

Neither of them looked so graceful getting into bed but they both lay back with sighs of relief once they were in. Shifting to reach out an arm, Tony slipped it around Timothy and lightly pulled him closer. He needed to feel the man in bed with him, make sure his Probie was okay, and make sure neither of them was going to be disappearing any time soon.

Rolling over onto his casted arm, Timothy ignored the pain that shot through him and nestled into the crook of Tony's neck. He was amazingly happy that man was alive, that the bullet hadn't been a fatal wound. "Tony?" Timothy murmured.

"Mhm…" Tony's voice was soft, fading to sleep, but he blinked a few times to keep his attention on Tim.

"Is it all right," he had to pause to yawn and nestle even closer. Timothy was close to sleep as well. "if I say I love you."

Tony's eyebrow cocked upwards and he couldn't help a rumble of laughter. He felt Tim tense and immediately coughed himself to a halt. "Yeah McGeek, that's all right, since I sorta love you, too." Falling asleep in one another's arms, the pain of the last few weeks was starting to fade away.


End file.
